Something New
by Random in a good way
Summary: A watch fic continuing from my first one, Angua gets a shock and something is beggining when a young man is thrown out of the fools guild


The man shuffled backwards, whimpering as angua advanced, hackles raised.

He growl reverberated around the narrow space making it sound like a hundred wolves were slowly bearing down on him*. The mans left boot had been pulled off and five toes the colour of melted lard were wiggling pathetically. Suddenly Angua stopped, her growl faded into echoes. A new smell had appeared alongside the odours of Ankh-Morpork, dank alley, fear** and unwashed foot.

Seeing her preoccupied the unlicensed thief took his chance, lept to his feet and dashed down a nearby side alley.

There was a pause.

Then, very slowly he walked out. Backwards. His eyes fixed on the figure in front of him. Anguas growl uncoiled from deep within her chest.

'Hello Angua'

*One is quite enough, thank you _so very_ much

**Hem-hem

In a bar somewhere in one of the seedier parts of Ankh-Morpork* Tommy Boil watched the bubbles in his drink break the surface and fizz into nothingness. If he focused completely, _utterly _on one bubble maybe the rest of the world would disappear. He watched the tiny pockets of gas squirm, seemingly out of pure embarrassment at being the focus of such attention.

Bugger.

It hadn't worked. So he drank them instead. He looked up and met a worried set of eyes in a face framed by red, yellow and bells.

'Er' said the face. It belonged to his elder brother, Russell Boil. 'What do I do now?' said Tommy in a voice so devoid of emotion that the question mark only got in by sheer luck.

'Er' said Russell, again.

There was a pause.

'You know…Er..maybe you shouldn't have..y'know..er'

'Told that joke?' said Tommy, savagely.

'Yes well…but you know they don't like jokes like that!'

'People laughed didn't they?' every sentence Tommy uttered seemed to be an accusation.

'Yes well…'

'And isn't that the point of a joke?'

'Er…yes'

'So why didn't you say something to them?' Tommy wailed. The bars only other occupant stared at Tommy, scratched his head and reached for the peanuts again.**

*eg. 95% of it

**ook

'Look, Tommy..er..look, political stuff makes people, well, _nervous_.'

'It was perfectly well founded criticism'

'Well some would say _too_ well founded. Look, if you're going to do that sort of thing ther're plenty of room in Sator square! Politics and jestering don't mix!'

'Why shouldn't they?'

'That's not my job, I don't make the rules so I don't interfere.'

'Yes, that's just the problem.' Said Tommy, his voice took on a steely quality.

'What?'

'That's all it is with you. Don't make trouble. Don't upset anybody. _Follow the rules. _They like _you. _

'Well..yes..I mean I don't rock the rboat.'

'So they would have listened to you! You shoul have spoken up for me! You're my brother and you let me down!'

'Well'

'I could have been a jester! I could have _been_ somebody!'

Russell said nothing. The silence deepened, only broken by the crunching of peanuts, shell and all.

'But instead I'm turfed out of the guild because they didn't want to upset anyone. Well_ I'm _upset! I'm not even allowed to wear the red-and-yellow any more! They had to lend me clothes!'

Tommy held up an arm, the threadbare sleeve struggled half-way along his gangly forearm and then gave up.

'I's a bit small' mumbled Russell

'Ha! The trousers are too big, I had to borrow a piece of string! I mean, I looked _good _in the jesters outfit!'

'Yeah…well, not many do.' Muttered Russell.

Tommy sighed, his anger suddenly spent. He stood up, everything about him drooped, including his trousers. Clutching them with both hands he stared at his brother, who didn't meet his eyes.

'At least give me some money for a place to stay, you owe me that.'

With 15 dollars in his pocket Tommy made his way out into the street. Right, somewhere to stay, it would be his first night outside the Fool's guild for 10 years but first, new clothes. Something stirred in the depths of his soul…a suit. Yeah a suit, that seemed…right.

The door of the watch house slammed back and Angua entered like the wrath of a particularly nasty god.* She stuck out a hand without looking and the dwarf underneath the duty officers desk carefully placed a bottle of mouthwash in it.

*the really nasty ones don't bother with bolts of lightning

Behind her came a handcuffed man who was trembling so fast the chain made a gentle jingling noise. You could have used him as an accompaniment to Hogswatch songs of the sickeningly cheery variety, usually sung by children under the age of 9 to long suffering parents.

Behind him came a tallish girl with short dark hair. She was wearing a red beret and not much skirt. Her eyes flickered round the room taking in everything. Everything, that is, except Vimes, leaning against the wall in a corner. He was doing what he did best, and that was lurk.

'Unlicensed thief, caught him trying to open someone's back door with a crowbar.' Angua growled, her eyes fixed on the young woman in front of her. The unlucky thief nearly threw himself at the officer who tried to take him away and remain entirely unnoticed at the same time. The thief took the stairs down to the cells two at a time.

Vimes studied the newcomer from his corner.

Hmm. Attention grabbing clothes

Relaxed, yet flattering, posture.

Eyes that took in everything.

Look in said eyes that mad you think of an animal backed in to a corner with only one way out. _Through you._

Aha

Angua swilled out her mouth and spat with pinpoint accuracy into an empty mug on the desk next to her. The dwarf behind it grabbed it and dived for the excuse to be somewhere else entirely.

'Right' she growled. Someone whimpered quietly. 'Just what the_ hell _do you think you are doing here?'

'Same as you, getting away from _there' _said the girl, surprisingly calmly for someone facing a werewolf who's teeth appear to be trying to get a life of their own, get out, see the world and not be constrained by anything so boring as the human mouth. Vimes noticed the set of the young woman's shoulders, the tension in the muscles. If he'd been closer he would have seen that the fine hairs on the back of her neck were standing up.

'Not in this city you aren't.' snarled Angua.

'Don't get all territorial on me.'

There was a pause, Angua growled, the girl took a deep breath in the manner of someone not a oly just about to drop a bombshell but ride it all the way down waving a hat and screaming.

'Do you think you were the only one? You're not so special as you'd like to think. You weren't there when we were practically back in the dark ages! Do you know what it was like if you didn't follow the pack? Not all of us can fight like you can!'

The silence pulled tight enough to choke. Then the Angua deflated. The room gave an audible sigh of relief, ther were a few wheezing noises from those who had been holding their breath. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

'Look, I'm sorry, it was just a shock.'

'I know,_ I'm_ sorry, I could probably have done the whole big reuninon thing a bit better.'

Angua looked round the room, approximately 41 eyes stared back*.

'Well you've certainly made an entrance, you'd better introduce yourself.'

Only Vimes saw the flicker of terror across her face.

'Oh..um..hi I'm Sandra!'

Angua snorted.

'Fine, Sandrilessa.'

'Go on' a note of her earlier tension had crept back into Angua's voice.'

'_Fine _Sandrilessa Grezoyvich.'

Anguas eyes bored into her.

'Good grief! Sandrilessa Alexia Von Uberwald-Grezoyvich! And I'm a bloody..'

'Werewolf?'

*Reg Shoe had had an accident

Every eye* in the room swivelled to the source of the voice. Anguas face went wooden.

'A werewolf? and one of the aristocracy if I'm not much mistaken.' said Vimes, advancing slowly across the room.

He stopped in front of Sandra, his hand reached into a pocket, brought out a cigar case, removed one, placed it in his mouth, reached into a nother pocket, took out a box of matches, removed one, struck it and lit the cigar. The animal eyes followed every movement.

'My name is commander Samuel Vimes.'

Was there a flicker? A Lancre Fling more like.

'Vimes' she said slowly 'I would like to thank you'

'Why?'

'You may well have saved my life.'

*in some cases literally


End file.
